Intimacy
by tahtiiawnuhFF
Summary: Page 388 of Mockingjay. There's a scene that's glossed over in the last paragraph. I like to think this is that scene, a moment captured in time that perhaps was left untouched for the privacy of Katniss and Peeta. A small pocket of time where they were able to be themselves, for once. I recommend playing the song Safe & Sound while reading. **Catching Fire Mockingjay spoilers!**


The screams engulf me again as I shoot up into the dark room. It takes me a moment to orient myself. Feel the warm security blanket I know to be his arms wrap around me. I begin to breathe like normal. Slowly, as assurances of it just being a dream are murmured in my ear. I can't remember exactly what the nightmares are. I just remember seeing eyes. Eyes where the light flickers out. Eyes of everyone that has died because of me.

There is still an aching pain deep inside me. For too many reasons. Of which I have no energy to list off. The tears I didn't realize I had shed are being brushed away by familiar hands. Those hands that linger with the scent of cinnamon and dill. But mostly cinnamon this time. The smell brings me so much comfort. I remember I had asked for some cinnamon from the kitchens in 13 when I couldn't sleep. When he wasn't there. Just to be able to calm down.

I look up at him and those honey blue eyes are shimmering with life. I know then that I don't want that life to ever leave them. The heat rushes to my cheeks as he smiles warmly and leans down.

His lips touch mine and something inside me comes to life. While everyone was busy formulating how to keep the fire alive as my image. My costume. Peeta was the one that had the power to light it from within. And the power to extinguish it.

He was the one that could cool me. Calmed me way too many times to count. Something about him always gave me hope. He still gives me hope. Like the pearl. Giving me something to center myself. Remembering that sweet boy that wove his way into my heart. Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.

Suddenly the kiss deepens. Just like in the cave. On the beach. In the streets of the Capitol. Before everything spiraled out of control and crumbled around me. Before I lost her.

I push that away and focus on him. The gentle boy that is now shifting on top of me. It makes that skin hungry need triple inside me. A yearning to be closer. It leaves me breathless. And while he knows how to cool me, calm me down. I know in this moment. He is bringing me to life with his soft touch. Every simple gesture. He is awakening me from the inside out.

Slowly the need for more contact increases. A need I'm not familiar with. I am unsure. But his hand carefully smoothes up my leg to stop at my torso. More heat rushes to my cheeks as our lips part and he brushes his nose against mine. I don't know how to respond or what to say, so I stay silent. That scent of cinnamon in the air. Burning, tangy, cinnamon. It is clear that he's burning me alive.

A quick flash of horror runs through my mind at the thought of fire. The thought of burning. He catches it. In my eyes, I presume. More tears fall at the image of my sweet sister. She's gone. There's nothing I can do. "She's gone, Peeta," I whisper weakly, the sorrow engulfing me and crushing me. It is entirely too disabling.

He just holds me close and my grip on him doesn't relent. I cry into his neck. Quite hard. He doesn't seem to mind. But Peeta never seems to mind. I want to thank him. For everything he's done. For all the things I looked over and took for granted. It seems so unfair, how I treated him. But he never stopped loving me so unconditionally. I suppose this will be how I will thank him. I've never been good with words anyway.

The moment passes as his warmth wills me back and out of my misery. Long enough that I can take a breath in attempt to steady myself. He just looks down at me with those adoring eyes and it makes me falter. I'm not used to this. Being so close to people. I don't like touch. He's special. That he gets to. He must know that. I know he knows that. I want to tell him but something in the air won't propel me to speak up. I'm stuck just staring.

"We… don't have to…" he begins but trails off. A tanned hand comes up and tucks a hair out of my face and behind my ear.

I look up at him with big eyes and blush again. "It.. Helps me forget. It… you make me feel wh-whole again. Even for just a moment," I say.

It's a small pocket of time that I allow myself such vulnerability. It strikes me that this isn't the first time I've been vulnerable around Peeta, though. But this is so different. A verbal vulnerability that I've never let myself venture. The shock is in his eyes for only a moment. Warmth surpasses it again as he smiles serenely at me. He builds me up.

He always has.

He nods and gently kisses my lips. I'm lifted off the bed to a sitting position. Peeta hesitates as his fingers play with the hem of my nightgown. "Are you sure, Katniss?" he whispers. The uncertainty in his voice makes it tremble slightly.

It only makes me more sure as I nod slowly at him, making sure I catch his eyes. He just gulps and peels the thin piece of clothing off me with steady, yet timid hands. He doesn't fumble though. You think he would. But he doesn't and it just makes me feel more at ease.

We lay back down, relaxing slightly. I bring a war-tattered hand up to his face to brush those blonde locks out of his eyes. The hand looks so marred in comparison to his smooth features. Those caring blue eyes that are deeper than any ocean I've been faced with.

For some reason I am unfazed that I am only in my undergarments lying beneath a very much smirking Peeta Mellark. I notice his eyes flicker down and it is then I realize I have only underwear on. The reality that I am bare from the waist up makes me blush immediately.

Peeta just chuckles and runs his thumb up and down my cheek. He kisses my lips again. Soft but chapped lips that I missed so much. Then a kiss to my cheek. The feeling of his smile against my ear, one soon forming on my own lips. But then, with a slight pause, they travel to the new territory of my neck. A rush of warmth surges through me. I cannot place it. But it is not unwelcome.

I'm not sure I like it though. But as those knowing hands trail up and down my sides with a feather soft touch. And his lips become more confident. I know that I can learn not to mind it.

A gasp leaves my lips as he reaches a pulse point, teeth grazing over it. How does he know what to do?

Why am I letting this happen?

Why am I letting him in?

He nuzzles against my ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin and my fingers grip onto his shirt.

"You're safe now, Katniss," he whispers, kissing my cheek again. I feel my heart swell and more tears come streaming down my face.

_That's why._

He makes no effort to stop the tears this time, both aware that there will probably be more. Instead he sits up and discards himself of his shirt.

Again I find myself wondering why I feel the need to look away. I've seen him shirtless countless numbers of times.

But. Not like this.

Not with this…

_Intimacy._

Everything about this moment. About us in general. Is captured in that word. _Intimate. _It's a good word. I make a note to write it down somewhere later. It's a very good word.

I worry my lip as I peek up at him. He's bashful as well this time. It calms me to know he's just as nervous. I chance lifting a hand to him again and trace along his chest.

He flutters his eyes shut, sighing at the simple contact. I know what he's feeling. Relishing in the fact that I'm touching his skin not because I have to. Because I want to. Not because he's wounded. Not because there's a camera lingering around the corner. Not because I'm restraining him. None of that. I just. Want to.

I ghost my fingers along the contours of his fire sensitive skin. Follow the ridges of his abdominal muscles that seem to contract out of their own accord at my touch. There's a long gash along his side that's scarred over. He flinches when I touch it, so I leave it alone. It's a punishment scar, that much I know.

A crease forms in between my brow. I feel the corners of my lips pull down. I think of how he got that scar. Of how he got all the scars that probably litter his once pristine body.

"It's not that bad. It was worse. Before they did the Basic Body Zero on me. That one was just a stubborn one," he comments, smiling reassuringly at me. A small smile forms on my lips as I absentmindedly place my hand over the large scar on my bicep. From when Johanna dug the tracker out.

He just nods and leans down, kissing the hand covering it. He then takes my hand in his and places those chapped lips against my battered ugly scar. It almost seems like there won't be enough liquid in me by the end of the night, seeing as I'm crying again. But I brush the thought away.

"It's okay to cry here. I won't tell anyone," he whispers soothingly, kissing my forehead. Smiling as he leans down, he presses our chests together.

I giggle slightly. I think I'm nervous. But another gasp is emitted from my lips, the hunger for him back as I press up to him automatically.

It is now that I realize, through the haze of such skin to skin contact, that my legs are spread. They cradle his hips and I can't help but feel something stir down there.

Logic escapes me and the confusion leaves me vulnerable. It's a feeling I detest. But it's okay. I replay the his soft words in my head again and relax. _You're safe now, Katniss._

The tears brim my eyes again as he takes such care of me. He kisses down my neck slowly, his nose brushing against my collarbone. The gesture sends chills through me. I gulp as I feel my heart quicken in my chest. Like the wings of those hummingbirds in Beetee's room.

Back at 13.

I close my eyes and focus. I do not want to think about 13. About the pain. About the people I've lost. I just force myself to focus on the constant flush of goodness that Peeta brings me with every press of his lips.

I feel dizzy. I don't know if it's the medication or my mental state. Or him. Sending me into a pleasant delirium. The way he breathes over my sensitive skin. My chest that's rising and falling.

"Please," comes out of my mouth before I register that I'm speaking. I feel a hot tongue suddenly on the swell of my breast and my head rests back. Body reacting without needing direction. It's like it already knows what to do.

And then he captures the most tender area between those warm lips and I nearly burst into tears at his gentility. A small noise leaves me and I can tell it affects him, his lower half slowly pressing down on me. That causes another choked sound to leave me.

To me it doesn't sound that wonderful. But I am in no position to complain. His mouth sends me to a place of carnal need that I am not familiar with. Other types of primal needs have coursed through me. Those are almost too familiar. I like this need. This instinct. I'd prefer this over any other instinct. Who needs water when I have Peeta Mellark slowly driving me into the most welcomed insanity yet.

His mouth relents and he kisses the valley in between my breasts. I feel like I'm coming back down to earth when he looks up at me with those peevish eyes and a little smile. I roll my own eyes and mock glare, knowing he's loving the affect he's having on me.

"And you say I have an effect on people," I find myself whisper as I try my best not to blush brightly under his leering gaze.

"I don't do this for people, Katniss," he husks back. There is no hostility in his voice. Just the truth. He means that I'm special. This is only for me. And up comes the tears again. And that word.

_Intimate._

My eyes flutter and I keep them downcast, fighting the smile forming at my lips. He's always been so good with his words. Perfect with them, really.

Simple. To the point. But filled with so much meaning. Before I can reply, I'm being sent back into that sweet delirium as wet warmth dances across my eager flesh. So much hunger inside me is produced. But this type of hunger I don't mind. But rather, I embrace it, fully intent of satisfying that hunger.

My back is arching more now and my hips press up more into his. The weight of his strong body on mine should startle me, make me try to wiggle out. But I don't. I trust him. I want him. I need him.

And now I understand what they meant when Peeta and Gale said I couldn't survive without one or the other.

I could never properly function without Peeta. I've realized this now that the word survive has been contrived in my mind. It merely means though that, to stay the true Katniss, I need Peeta.

Without him, I cannot survive.

I, as the purest form of myself, cannot survive.

It would be just a hollow shell of what I used to be. It seems as though that's what it's been like these past few months. The days without him so alarmingly empty. The days with him and not in his true state drilling me into my vacant loneliness. I was someone I could not, cannot, recognize. The someone I still am sure I have remnants of.

"Stop thinking so much," I hear and it pulls me back to him. I smile sheepishly and blush. "Makes me feel like I'm not doing something right," he mutters, finally some doubt shining through.

It takes me a minute to understand. But when I do, I smile. He means to make me forget.

"No Peeta. You're… doing just pefect. Okay?" I reply.

I run my fingers through his pretty blonde hair. He brightens at my words and searches my face for any hints of mistrust. He knows I'm a lousy liar. So I smile wider. It's a dreamy, genuine smile. I don't really ever smile.

But it's enough to convince him. I can tell by the light pink rising to his cheeks.

I decide to be more active in showing him I'm not lying. I carefully… and slowly, trail my hand down to his trousers. His breath catches in his throat and he closes his eyes.

I bite my lip and shyly fumble with the zipper, sliding it down. My hands are shaky but I keep going, unbuttoning the black button tentatively. I can't help but gulp as I watch his expression. The air is thick with anticipation as he gets up off the bed, kicks his pants off, and crawls back on top of me. I'm only two garments away from losing the only thing I feel like have to offer to him.

Needless to say, I'm scared.

I want him to have it. But what if it's not enough? After everything we've been through. It only seems right. It only seems natural. How it's supposed to be. I have to sit on the thought but maybe it's what he's what he's wanted all along. Not just _this. _But me. My love. It's what he's wanted, right? But could that really be enough? Would it be worth all the trouble he went through for me? Only receiving my love for everything he did? Knowing Peeta, he'd say yes. It was enough. More than enough, probably.

So I will give myself to him. All of myself to him.

But then something strikes me. Unease courses through me suddenly, and I swallow thickly.

"Peeta… Have you ever… done this.. before?" I ask unsurely. The idea of anyone else touching him like this. Being this… _intimate_… with anyone else makes me sick. It upsets me to the core. I don't realize that my grip on him has tightened slightly.

As much as I want his answer to be no, I'd understand if he said yes.

He's already given me so much.

Peeta just chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're really asking me that, Katniss?" he asks. My cheeks burn and I think about the impossibility of my question. But I just have to know for sure. So I look up at him with hopeful eyes.

He sighs, but humors me.

"No, Katniss, I haven't. You will be my first… and… hopefully my only," he confesses.

I am sure my face is the color of Effie's deep pink lipstick. All I can do his pull him down and bury my face in his neck. He just smiles against my shoulder lightly. I hope he can't hear how hard my heart is pounding.

Once my idiotic display of fluster leaves me, Peeta presses his forehead against mine. His hands move down to rest on my hips. I'm nervous. So nervous that for a moment I wish I'm back in the arena. Back to what I know.

It's a fleeting thought, leaving me as I feel the fabric being silked off my slender legs. I hear the sound of it hitting the ground.

I'm far too nervous to meet his eyes, my legs pressed together tightly. He doesn't mind, tracing little circles on my heated skin until my breathing returns almost to normal.

"You're beautiful, Katniss," he says in a hushed tone against my ear. I realize there that practically every time he has spoken to me this night, he's said my name. I don't know why. Maybe to make it more real. That any minute he could wake up from all this. Whatever the reason, it makes my heart and stomach fill with warmth.

But then I register the compliment and the heat that I feel in my abdomen shoots to my cheeks.

No one's ever called me beautiful. Not even G—

I force myself not to think about him. I don't need to. Gulping and breathing slowly to steady myself, I let my legs slowly, and very timidly, part. Falling open for him.

He doesn't say a word. Doesn't make a witty remark. He just smiles at me with those bright white teeth. Almost as bright as the pearl he gave me. The twinkle in his eyes make me falter. His hand travels down and I resist the urge to clamp my legs together. He's looming over me, propping himself up, but I can't look at him.

Not just yet.

I don't know much about how all this works. He knows that. But I'm not dumb. His fingers caress me in the right places and again that light touch, so precise and cautious. Treating me so gingerly. Not wanting to break me. But he's doing quite the opposite really. All Peeta has done for me from the start is mend me. Give me food. Give me life. Give me what I never thought I needed.

_Intimacy._

There's something that's making his fingers smooth around easily but I'm too shy to ask. He's eyeing me for what to do, but he doesn't need much help. He already knows what he's doing so w—

"_Ohhh," _I let out.

That's unexpected. As his strong yet careful digit gently slips inside. It hurts slightly and I wince. But not enough to tell him to stop. And I know he would if I asked.

"Is it bad?" he whispers, voice clouded with concern as he bites his lip.

I just shake my head, unable to form words. He pulls back his hand and sinks the finger back in. I gasp and whimper. Sounds I never knew I could produce as I raise my hips to his meticulous hand.

I can't help but think about what I look like right now. Face flushed, a sheen of sweat on my forehead, hair sprawled out on the pillow and probably some matted to my face.

But of course Peeta would say something to make a silly flipping feeling bubble in my stomach. Say I look like an angel or something. I have to make my eyes not roll at the idea. Even if it does make my heart flutter like a frivolous school girl's would.

His hand slips away too soon though and a small pout forms on my lips as I open my eyes.

Peeta grins and snickers slightly as he leans down to kiss me softly. I kiss back just as tenderly and barely realize he's removing the last article of clothing. The article of clothing that will soon seal our fates.

He pulls his lips away just as he tosses the garment aside. Then he grabs the sheets and blankets them over us as he gets settled.

Even alone together, this moment has to be covered up. It gets to be private. When so much of our lives these past three years have been out for the public to see. This time though, it's different. Like so much other stuff is different tonight.

This time it's just for us.

My attention flickers down though and I take in his size, horror coursing through me. How is he going to—

"Remember, Katniss. You're safe," he mumbles against my lips. "You know I'll be gentle."

He says this with a matter-of-fact tone. And it's true. That's what Peeta is.

Gentle.

Always gentle.

Always patient.

Always... Peeta.

Having him back like this… thinking of the cold monster he was.

I block it out quickly enough but the tears still prick my eyes for the umpteenth time this night. Somehow he knows what I'm thinking.

"I'm not going back to that, okay?" he whispers. I just look up with so much pain it probably breaks his heart in half. It's almost as if I can hear it breaking.

"Never?" I say weakly, my voice failing me.

"Never," he assures, resting his forehead against mine again.

"I love you," I finally whisper into the small moment.

"I know," he murmurs back, smiling and lining himself up against me. Does he really? Or is he just saying that?

He speaks again before I can ask, though. "This might hurt a little…"

"I've hurt worse," I reply. He doesn't comment.

Before I know it, I'm feeling so much pressure that I feel like I'm going to break in half.

I forget my name, I forget my fear, I forget my family, I forget my pain, I nearly forget how to breathe.

I forget everything.

My chest is heaving, body tingling as he presses so intimately to me.

_Intimate._

He pauses, seeing how much pain I'm in and lets me adjust to the intrusion.

"You okay? Want me to stop? Does it hurt?" he says a bit frantically.

I just hold on tighter to him, pressing my forehead up to his as he pushes his down to mine. This makes him ease slightly but I feel like I need to add something out loud.

"O-Only a little," I say.

"Liar," he replies and I smile.

"It's okay, Peeta. I know you're not going to hurt me on purpose. It's okay," I urge, leaning up to kiss his lips.

My motion makes me gasp at the friction. He gulps thickly and I can tell he's having trouble keeping still. "Move," I beg, biting my lip.

He nods and pulls out slowly and I can't help but raise off the bed, head thrown back, as he carefully, snugly, sinks back in.

It's an uncomfortable stretching feeling and to say it doesn't hurt would be a lie. But it's Peeta. He's taking care of me. Worshiping every last inch of me. Small little caresses here and there on my fragile skin.

He kisses me on the nose lightly and the tears immediately fall. To distract me from my crying, he slips out again and I feel that whimper escape me. It makes Peeta visibly shudder. Who would have thought that a sound could make him so needy. It perplexes me to think it. But then again it's an instinct. It doesn't have to make sense.

But it does. He does.

He's the only thing that makes sense in my life anymore. My rock. What grounds me.

No mother. No Gale. No Prim.

He's all I have left.

I hold onto him as he sinks back in. Soon more sighs, whimpers, and, at moments, even moans are emitted from my mouth. The pain subsides and I'm glad because I've never been this full in my life. It's not something I want to ever go away, really.

His hands are hot and strong against my skin as they hold my hips in place. His pace becomes faster but it's still careful. Still slow. He's holding back and I know it's not enough. For him. But for me too.

"Let… go, P-Peeta… You're n-not go-ing to hu-hurt me… L-Let go…" I muster out choppily between his slow even thrusts, chest rising and falling as a soft moan escapes me.

He gazes down at me with hazy eyes, bleary with need. Need for me. Every thought I can even pretend to dwell on is out the window when he finally lets go. Scream after scream. Good screams. Great screams. Screams that will hopefully drown out the other screams. The ones that chill me to the bone.

"_Peeta!"_ I shriek, eyes shooting open and locking with his as he brings me higher.

"Don't let me go, Katniss. Don't let me go, please, please, st-tay with me," he groans, gasping and burying his face in my neck.

"Al-lways," I let out, running my fingers into his sandy blonde hair, holding onto him tightly.

It comes quickly. Almost out of nowhere. The pressure that builds. The tension as your back arches up off the bed, pulling him in deeper. The lack of air as everything stills. How your mind goes blank. He says my legs were shaking. I blush at the thought of the intensity being so strong that my body can't help but shudder.

"I love you, too… By the way," he whispers once we've caught our breaths, yet chest still heaving.

I cling to him, recoiling slowly from such a blissful euphoria. He leans down and brushes his nose against mine.

So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real," with tears streaming down my face.

It's a sweet moment. The way he smiles brightly, eyes still cloudy from the aftermath. He's practically glowing. He looks so… angelic. I want to capture this moment. Right here. Forever.

He pulls away and out of me and I suddenly feel so empty. He immediately curls close against me though, pulling my back to his chest and nuzzling into my neck.

I can only let one word fall out of my lips as I drift to sleep.

"Intimate."

He just pulls me even closer, kissing my shoulder lightly.

I dream in a field of dandelions that night.


End file.
